


At Long Last, on a Working Holiday

by LongGiraffeLady



Category: GOT7, JJ Project
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:13:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26184745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LongGiraffeLady/pseuds/LongGiraffeLady
Summary: In which everyone but Jinyoung and Jaebum know that they're into each other. It's just a matter of time until they figure it out.
Relationships: Im Jaebum | JB/Park Jinyoung
Comments: 6
Kudos: 95





	At Long Last, on a Working Holiday

CHAPTER 1

Jaebum wouldn't necessarily say that he’s a ‘city-slicker’, but he doesn’t really have to when Youngjae’s there to say it for him. 

He's been lagging further and further behind the other man, at first unintentionally, he swears. But Youngjae gets louder when he's excited, and Jaebum's speed has inarguably continued to drop proportionately to the increasing volume of his friend’s voice. Each chirp, rustle, and rattle that he can now hear around him is a reward for his disloyalty and he relishes it. 

In the distance he can still hear the low drone of that loud voice, talking because he hasn't noticed that Jaebum’s not there or because he just doesn’t care, Jaebum is unsure.

As he walks, he wonders why he's even out of bed -- it’s a Saturday morning, which usually heralds the only time of the week that he can catch up on sleep, in his own home, his own bed, his own too frequently uninhabited apartment. 

Saturday mornings are also his Cooking Day, the only time he gets to be creative with his meals and prepare for the week ahead. Cooking Day is Jaebum’s favorite day, because it happens to coincide with Sleeping-In Day 1 and heralds Sunday, or Sleeping-In Day 2. There aren’t a lot of pleasures Jaebum relies on in life, but his Saturday mornings are the cornerstone to his week. 

He rounds a corner, the stretch of brush he’d been hiking up opening up to a clearing, and waiting there for him is Youngjae, looking unimpressed and unsurprised. He doesn’t physically say the word weak but Youngjae knows Jaebum knows Youngjae’s thinking it, and apparently that’ll do for today. Absently Jaebum wonders if he’s being so nice because it’s the weekend.

He stands and holds out a water bottle as Jaebum approaches, silent but for his loud panting, under the weight of Youngjae’s expectant gaze. He clearly has something to say, and just as clearly wants Jaebum to ask. Jaebum's happy to let him wait.

But Youngjae's known Jaebum for a long time, and he knows just what to say to pique his interest. "Assistant Manager Park," That's all he says, and he says it in the smuggest tone Jaebum's ever heard come out of a human mouth.

Damn him.

It's pathetic, as far as Battles of Wills go, because Jaebum's had this weak point for a very long time. It's an exercise in futility trying to armour over a vulnerability this big, and he's learned to just curl up around the hurt in the aftermath. He gives in with a sigh.

"Say it," Jaebum says, but Youngjae says nothing. 

"Say it or I'll fire you,"Jaebum says, trying and failing to work up a menacing tone. A breeze sweeps through the clearing, stirring up the leaves and kicking up the dust. He squints to keep it from getting in his eyes. 

"Your team's already understaffed, hyung," Youngjae says, so obviously not laughing at Jaebum, it almost feels worse than if he'd just laughed and gotten on with it. 

“Just say it,” Jaebum says, tiredly. Youngjae clears his throat, loudly, and Jaebum thinks about how there wouldn't be any witnesses to see Jaebum's smiling face if Youngjae slipped over the edge of the cliff.

“Assistant Manager Park passed by this way 20 minutes ago,” Youngjae replies with a smug grin (Always so smug! It's infuriating!), clearly taking pains to say stretch out his words as much as possible. Jaebum's on the second draft of the eulogy already.

“Assistant Manager Park said he loves hiking on the weekends.” 

Jaebum doesn’t respond, just lights up a cigarette, and blows the smoke towards Youngjae, whose nose wrinkles.

“I’m sure Assistant Manager Park is an excellent hiker,” Jaebum says, gasping silently into his cigarette, blowing out more smoke towards Youngjae. They stand in silence, Youngjae moves away as more smoke wafts towards him and Jaebum watches in pained satisfaction as the wind carries the smoke to him anyway.

He hasn’t yet stopped panting, but he won’t give Youngjae the satisfaction of stubbing out his cigarette yet.

“20 minutes ago, you said?” He asks nonchalantly after a moment, although it should be known that the word "nonchalant" has never before been used to describe Im Jaebum. Neither has "subtle".

Youngjae nods, and Jaebum looks studiously at his cigarette for a moment, before he snuffs it out, pulls his bag back on and starts walking, faster than before -- panting all the way -- Youngjae’s laughter ringing out behind him.

~~~

The day Im Jaebum met Assistant Manager Park Jinyoung -- Intern Park Jinyoung, at the time -- had been Jaebum’s first day at JYPE Consolidated. 

Freshly pumped out from university, loved and cherished by his parents as only an only child ever could be, Jaebum walked confidently right through those big, glass doors. The one thing stopping his tie from flapping dramatically behind him was the new tie pin his parents had given him that morning, given not because they were proud of him -- although they certainly were -- but simply because they loved him very much.

Jaebum took the elevator to his floor - fourth floor he knew, because “F" was for "Four" and also for "Finance" - and walked directly up to Team Leader Song, who silently showed him to his desk, pushed a stack of files into his arms, and left to speak to someone more important. Jaebum stood there, bag and files in hand, jaw agape, overwhelmed 12 seconds into his new job. 

13 second on the job and Jaebum was wondering if his life had just been a series of bad decisions leading up to this point. 

His parents were farmers and his childhood memories were happy ones; surely Jaebum also could become a farmer and find happiness as well? Surely he could learn to love ploughing. And was he not Korean? Were cabbage and radish not staples of the Korean diet? For his country, he could farm.

Sometimes, after a long day at work, Jaebum wonders how long he would’ve lasted at the job if he hadn’t met Park Jinyoung. Realistically, he really doesn’t think that he would've been a JYPE employee for more than two months.

Maybe it was pity, or maybe it was empathy (he would never -- could never -- ask, but he does think it was pity, because surely Park Jinyoung was not the type of man to feel unsure of himself, even when he was an intern) but that morning, Intern Park was the one who took the files from his hand and set them neatly down on his desk as he introduced himself.

“I’m Park Jinyoung.” He’d said, and Jaebum had introduced himself hurriedly. 

“I’m Im Jaebum. It’s very nice to meet you,” He’d stuttered out, wondering if he sounded as stupid as felt, but Jinyoung had just smiled at him gently and taken him under his wing.

He’d introduced him to the rest of the office, explained what those damned files were, and educated him as to why Manager Song was such a bastard (there was no reason, Jinyoung had laughed, he just was) and at the end of the day, Jinyoung had taken him to get drinks with some of the older interns, the ones who had been there for a couple of months, the ones who, it would turn out, he would work with for many years after that.

“Manager Song’s new intern?” Mark, an intern from the accounting team, had asked commiseratingly, and had poured him shot after shot when he’d nodded.

Jaebum had heard that JYPE employed several therapists, on hand for when the employees needed someone to talk to. On the list of Acceptable Coping Mechanisms they probably have hanging on their walls, Jaebum wonders where drinking your problems away would fall -- he'd reckoned it'd be pretty low. But then again, Jaebum had thought, none of those therapists had been invited out for drinks that night and Jaebum had, so he'd downed another shot.

Although he himself could not remember any of it, Jaebum would later find out that the night had ended at a _noraebang_ , where a drunk Jaebum had become a very drunk Jaebum, sloppy and mumbling into Jinyoung’s shoulder. 

“I just thought-- ” he slurred moistly, “I just thought you should know, that I don’t think I would've made it to 14 seconds. Too many seconds. Too many.” and he’d wrenched his face away from where his face had slipped down to Jinyoung’s neck, and stared him directly in the eyes. 

The next day, some of the other interns would assert that Jinyoung had blushed profusely, while others contended that he was already flushed from the alcohol. Jaebum wouldn't be able to hear them from under the documents he was trying to smother himself with.

“I had a feeling,” Jinyoung said, smiling again (Jaebum had been surprised all day by how easily the other man smiled). It’s astonishing really, that he has any idea what Jaebum is saying, between the music, the hushed whispers of the other interns as they watch on, and the fact that Jaebum himself isn’t technically making any sense. 

“I wanted you to have a few more seconds than that. Maybe even some minutes.” Jinyoung had teased, eyes all crinkled up, and Jaebum was hooked (for the next two hours, at least; by the time he woke up the next morning, Jaebum would forget that he’d been hooked, but he’d actually make the exact same realisation within another week of working with Jinyoung).

“God, I got both the weird ones,” Jackson, the third and final finance intern groaned in an undertone to Mark, who’d poured him another shot sympathetically.

Jaebum carefully took Jinyoung by the shoulders, and leaned in to make sure that he understood the importance of what he was about to say.

“If I’m happy here, it’ll be all your fault.” And he’d shaken him once to make the words settle in.

 _Ooooh_ went the peanut gallery.

And Jinyoung had said, “Why don’t we get you home?” 

“Yes please” Jaebum had tried to reply lasciviously. Months later when they were picking through the night again to see if there was anything they’d missed the first time, Jackson would let him know that it was the sweetest he’d ever heard Jaebum sound. _I almost threw up in my mouth, hyung. Please try to get a grip._

His story-tellers hadn’t been able to elucidate him as to what had happened after that, drunk and wobbly themselves by then. But Jaebum had woken the next morning to the sound of his alarm, groggy but less hungover than he would've expected. He was in his room, his socks were laid neatly on the floor beside his shoes, jacket hung up in his closet, and a glass of water was on his bedside table with a note beside it.

_Don’t be late to work!_

__

__

_-PJY_

It goes without saying that Jaebum didn't throw the note out.

~~~

Finally, Jaebum reaches the peak of the mountain behind Youngjae. He’s sweating profusely and he sends up a wordless thanks to the God of Sweat-Wicking Technology. But there’s no way he can hide the way he’s huffing and puffing; the air pressure on the mountain might be fluctuating in sync with his breathing. He’s actually a little dizzy. 

His whole team has arrived before him, and they look fresh and hydrated. Jaebum sits down on the nearest rock, and just holds out a hand, hoping that someone will put a water bottle in it. He hears shoes crunching up the dirt towards him and feels a cold plastic water bottle being placed in his hand, and finally looks up to gasp out a thank you,

“Than-” He falters, before valiantly pulling himself together, “Thanks Jinyoung-ah.”

“You didn’t bring your own water?” Jinyoung asks, crouching down beside him.

“Bag,” Jaebum gasps out, “Too difficult,” He gestures weakly beside him. 

Jinyoung sideyes him, and reaches into the bag to drink his water. He takes a long drink, and turns to take in Jaebum’s fatigued state.

“Your sneakers are muddy,” He says slowly, putting the cap back on the bottle.

“I slipped,” Jaebum replies, trying to tuck one muddy shoe behind the other, equally muddy shoe.

“ Your pants are muddy.” Jinyoung says, continuing his slow perusal up Jaebum’s body.

“I tripped,” Jaebum says, flushing under the weight of Jinyoung’s inspection, “It was a rough trail.” He adds defensively, when Jinyoung doesn’t seem impressed by his excuses. He flushes anew when Jinyoung pointedly looks around at the other campers, all unmussed and fresh, before looking down towards the trail which is clearly marked.

“ Your jacket’s torn,” Jinyoung says finally, reaching out to finger at the rip in Jaebum’s jacket, but he hesitates before he reaches, and drops his hand silently. His voice is clearly, eloquently, amused, even as his expression doesn't change. Distantly, Jaebum can't help but remember how easily he used to smile and helplessly wonders what happened to the man in his memories.

“I slipped,” Jaebum says hoarsely.

“You said that already,” Jinyoung says, peering carefully into Jaebum's face, and Jaebum must be more out of shape than he’d thought, because wow, he’s still struggling to breathe.

“I slipped twice,” Jaebum responds shyly, and finally Jinyoung laughs, shoulders shaking, eyes crinkled up just the way Jaebum likes best.

“I'm always surprised by how clumsy you can be,” Jinyoung says with a sigh, and Jaebum huffs out a laugh, because honestly, he's not thrilled about it himself.

 _I'm not clumsy, I'm just distracted, Jinyoung-ah._ Said so many times, over spilled lunches and in meetings, walking down the road or in the office, rolling over each other's feet. 

_I'm only clumsy when I'm drunk. Who isn't? Who isn't?_ Usually said after a night out, conceding a rare variation on the usual theme.

Jaebum's thoughts wander back to a time when they’d been freshly minted permanent employees at the company, and there had been one particularly slow day, the type that drags on and on, unrelentingly. They’d finished all their work, but their sunbaes were still at work, so they had to be too. 

Jinyoung had been reviewing documents that had already been reviewed, just trying to look busy enough that nobody could say they weren’t working. Jaebum, bored out of his mind, stole Jinyoung’s sticky pad and carefully, painstakingly started folding the paper. Jinyoung, noticing that his deskmate was busy, looked over, so Jaebum turned away, hiding the paper with his body.

“Show me,” Jinyoung had ordered quietly.

Jaebum didn't even bother looking up from the paper, "No."

"Show me," Jinyoung says again, the authority of a slightly more experienced intern heavy in his tone. 

“Bossy.” Jaebum had murmured, focused on his paper.

“I am in charge of you Jaebum-ah,” Jinyoung had said, looking around surreptitiously before reaching for Jaebum’s chair.

“You were in charge of me, Jinyoung-ah,” Jaebum had responded mockingly, trying to wheel his chair out of Jinyoung’s grasp. 

“Jesus Christ,” Jackson muttered from his spot beside them, “I was here before both of you, so I’m in charge.” Neither Jinyoung nor Jaebum had even noticed that he'd said something.

“Let go of the chair,” Jaebum stage whispered, trying to shuffle his chair away but getting no traction.

“I’ll let go if you give me the paper,” Jinyoung had said, tugging harder on the chair, and Jaebum’s feet slipped out from under him, and his chair hit Jinyoung’s with a loud THWACK. They froze.

"Please refrain from wrestling in the workplace,” Then-Assistant Manager Yoo said dryly, not even looking up from his computer.

"Sorry Sunbae-nim, we were just trying to work out a problem together." Jinyoung lies as Jaebum clutches his hand to his chest.

Assistant Manager Yoo had leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, face unimpressed, "What part of the expression on my face makes you think I care?" he’d said, "Both of you, back to work.”

“Sorry Sunbae-nim,” Jinyoung said contritely, looking over as Jaebum whimpered over his squished finger.

“Jaebum, you’re bleeding.” He’d said, surprised, before grabbing his arm and hustling him to the bathroom with only a quick, _Jaebum-sshi is bleeding_ , in response to Assistant Manager Yoo and Manager Song’s twin glares.

In the bathroom, Jinyoung had held Jaebum’s hand under the tap, and Jaebum can remember to this day how terribly, terribly gentle he’d been. People weren’t usually that careful with him-- with his broad shoulders and tougher appearance they rarely felt that they needed to be, certainly not over a little bit of blood, or a couple of bumps and bruises. Honestly, it rarely even bothered Jaebum, but the way Jinyoung was doting on him made Jaebum feel so small and cared for. It was nice to think that he could just trust Jinyoung to handle it all for him. 

It felt like a big realisation for such an ordinary day.

Jinyoung's pinched face was speaking volumes -- the tense eyebrows, and pursed lips of a man who was deeply regretful, and Jaebum knew himself well enough even then to be unsurprised by how much he disliked that look on his face.

It's strange, Jaebum remembers thinking, how thoroughly you can know someone. Some of their coworkers thought Jinyoung could be smug or taciturn, and certainly he could be, sometimes. But Jaebum knew better -- Jinyoung was _deliberate_. He was careful, so that he wouldn't hurt anyone or have to apologize or regret later.

To see him now, so remorseful over such a small thing, felt like a distortion of his nature -- proud Park Jinyoung, softening over Jaebum alone. 

Jaebum didn't wouldn’t hear any apologies, certainly didn't need or want one when a look at Jinyoung's face was enough.

“My hero,” Jaebum said snidely, before the self-recrimination could begin, and felt a punch of satisfaction when he made him smile. 

“All part of the plan to get us out of there,” Jinyoung replied lightly, and Jaebum could see some of the tension leave his shoulders and that was a clear success in his book. 

He watched as Jinyoung inspected his hand, and as he handed Jaebum some paper towels to dry off with.

"I think you're going to live," Jinyoung said, smiling down at Jaebum's hand, and Jaebum didn't think, just asked.

"Wanna get some drinks tonight?" And it was ridiculous, but he felt like he was in high school again, asking someone on a date for the very first time.

"Sure," Said Jinyoung easily, like not going had never even crossed his mind.

And Jaebum let out a breath that he hadn't known he was holding and followed him out of the bathroom with a smile.

A week later, they were both promoted to full-time, permanent employees. Jaebum was allowed to remain in Finance, but Jinyoung had been given to the Accounting department where, depending on who you asked, he’d either flourished into one of the most outstanding Assistant Managers the company had ever seen or become the coldest, most exacting asshole ever to set a deadline.

Now, with Jinyoung sitting in front of him, watching in that careful way that hasn't changed since they were interns, Jaebum wonders why he'd suddenly remembered that day specifically. 

He stands, wanting to get some physical space from the person he'd been in that memory. Jinyoung's still crouched comfortably, placidly watching him from his feet, and Jaebum thinks how unfair it is that he seems so unaffected, while Jaebum still feels that old ache of his pointless, one-sided crush. 

But Jinyoung's nature has always been the inverse of his, an image reflected and flipped. In some ways they were the exact same person, one soul in two bodies, and in others they were exact opposites. Maybe Jaebum's the one who's forgetting that, forgetting the past.

Jinyoung stands up and brushes his spotless pants down, and he speaks without even looking up.

"Don't drink too much tonight, Assistant Director Song wants to talk to you." They haven't had a proper conversation in three years, Jaebum knows, not outside some stilted small-talk whenever they run into each other at work. _Meteorologists probably don't even talk about the weather as much as Assistant Director Song and I do_ , Jaebum thinks.

"We haven't had a conversation in three years," Jaebum says, Team Leader alarm bells going off, "Is something wrong?"

"Does something have to be wrong for you to have a talk with your old Manager? Jinyoung asks, puzzled. 

"It's just weird that he asked you instead of asking me directly." Brain whirring, Jaebum tries to focus, "Have I done anything wrong lately?”He frets, brow furrowed, “Would I even know if I did something wrong?" 

Jinyoung is openly laughing at him, and Jaebum gives in without a fight.. 

"That man still scares me," he admits ruefully, and is surprised when Jinyoung hums in agreement.

"But maybe there's some urgent weather news that he needs to discuss with you," he says chortling, and Jaebum laughs with him. 

"I thought it was just me!" He exclaims. More fool him for thinking he was special.

Jinyoung chuckles, "I bet it's even how he chats up women." Jaebum had worked with the man for long enough to know that it was entirely possible.

They settle into a companionable silence, and Jaebum just feels so good right now. He’s heard people talking about second winds and runner’s highs, but he’d just resigned himself to hearing about it and never experiencing it himself. It had certainly not been on the itinerary for the day when he’d rolled out of bed that morning..

He feels like he could do the entire hike over again. Obviously he wouldn't, but he thinks he could. 

Eventually Jinyoung clears his throat, "Actually, there's something I wanted to talk to you about too." he says.

"Why, is something wrong?" Jaebum says absently, squinting his eyes against a gust of wind.

Jinyoung shuffles forward until he’s crouched like a windbreak between Jaebum and the breeze."Do people only talk to you when something's wrong?" he asks, voice exasperated and loud, "Why do you keep asking that?" 

The way they’re positioned now, every gust of wind breaks on Jinyoung. Like this Jaebum can smell the fresh scent of his laundry detergent, a hint of clean sweat underneath, and it’s very distracting.

"Does something have to be wrong for us to chat?" Jinyoung asks when Jaebum doesn't say anything, "Can't I just want to talk to you?" The words sound harmless, but it's not really a fair question, not when Jinyoung hasn't wanted to _just talk_ at any point in the last three years. 

Jaebum almost feels angry then, because how like Jinyoung to just skip over all of the difficult parts when they don't suit him. 

But before Jinyoung can turn his face away, Jaebum can see his face stiffen the way it always used to when he was upset and didn't want anyone to know, and Jaebum's just a sucker, always has been.

"You don't need to put in a special request, Jinyoung-ah, you can just talk to me whenever you want." That's the way they used to be at least. It's the way he'd like it to be again, if Jinyoung would let them.

His smile, when it comes, makes Jaebum's beat faster, the foreboding feeling of deja vu not nearly strong enough to dampen his spirits.

"Maybe we should go over the forecast for the week before you talk to the Assistant Director," Jinyoung says, still smiling.

~~

In the end, Jaebum does drink too much. Thinking about talking to Jinyoung makes him nervous, and this new Jinyoung who apparently _wants to talk_ is so foreign to him, especially after three years of nothing more than polite “how are you’s” is too much. 

He soon realises his mistake when he can barely see straight, panics, and tries to sneak away to the small bedroom he's been allocated as Team Leader before the Assistant Director can find him. It should be emphasised that he was truly quite drunk, so perhaps he can be forgiven if his escape wasn’t as inconspicuous as he’d planned.

He almost makes it, but a poorly placed plant gives away his location, and before he knows it he's speaking with Assistant Director Song in the hallway and trying desperately to make it look like he's leaning against the plant because it's comfortable, and definitely not because it's the only thing holding him upright.

It takes all the strength of character Jaebum has to compose himself enough to not seem like a fool but by the time the conversation's over, Jaebum feels like he may have sold his soul to the Assistant Director over an extended personnel budget for his team anyway.

Still, the matter of his soul seems like a problem for later when he’s standing in front of his locked room door despite his best efforts to unlock it, and the prospect of spending the night roaming the hallways of the hotel has him leaning against the door, trying very very hard to cry. 

But despite his best efforts, the tears pool in his eyes, and he curses softly because his vision was already blurry before, and now he's definitely not going to be able to get inside. God truly must’ve been frowning when Jaebum was born. Everything feels hopeless and the world sucks.

His head jerks up when he hears footsteps approaching from the other end of the hallway, and he squeezes his eyes shut as tight as he can, so tight it hurts, hoping to suck his tears back in through sheer willpower before anyone sees him looking so soggy. But the tears overflow anyway and run their salty track down his face.

He's staring blurrily at his doorknob when he hears the shuffle of feet stop behind him. Very close behind him. He's too drunk to tense up, but if he wasn't, he would. 

"What's your passcode, Jaebum?" A familiar voice asks softly. 

Jaebum turns around, and there's Jinyoung right in front of him looking a little tired, but his face softens when he sees Jaebum’s tearstained face.

He’s embarrassed immediately, but the way his neck lines up just right with Jaebum's head is so distracting, and he's close enough that Jaebum can smell him from where he stands. He’s so masculine and close that Jaebum's knees go a little weak. Weaker, anyway. 

Jaebum wants to lean into his neck and stay there, just like this, in the hallway.

"Its 1-3-7-3, but it's not gonna work," he mumbles instead, because leaning on the plant should be the weirdest thing he does in the hallway tonight. 

Jinyoung leans forward to punch in the code, and the door beeps gently as it unlocks. He smiles sweetly as he steps closer, right into Jaebum’s space, and Jaebum can feel his breath hitch entirely involuntarily. Maybe he’d hesitated to touch him before, but now, here, Jinyoung reaches out without hesitation to wipe Jaebum’s tears away. 

It’s soft and gentle and reminds Jaebum again of that day so long ago in the bathroom. But before he has the time or presence of mind to mention it, Jinyoung steps back and walks into the room, leaving Jaebum wobbly and in disbelief behind him. 

Gathering his nearly exhausted wits about him, he follows Jinyoung into the room and slumps in a pile on the bed. 

"How are you always so good at things?" He mumbles. 

His face is squished into the mattress, one eye peeking out enough to watch Jinyoung as he removes his watch and blazer and folds them away neatly. Like it's his room. His passcode, and his room, and his bed that Jaebum's going to sleep in tonight. 

"Passcodes aren't too difficult when you can see the buttons," Jinyoung says, smiling to himself as he steps around the bed to sit beside where Jaebum is lying. He settles, and Jaebum rolls into the depression he makes in the bed, uncovering his face. His eyes meet Jinyoung's, and Jaebum feels shy suddenly. 

He can just imagine what Jinyoung must be seeing right now -- clothes dishevelled, tie long-since loosened, hair loose from its mouse and flopping over his forehead, not to mention the goddamn tears -- he must just be the picture of drunk and disorderly. He feels embarrassed, lying there mussed and flushed under Jinyoung's gaze, so he tucks his face away into the leg beside him. He can feel the denim scrape against his face and has to resist the urge to rub his face like a kitten against the fabric and the hard muscle he can feel underneath. 

He wonders where his self-control has gone; surely one friendly conversation on the side of a mountain shouldn't have him reverting back to a lovelorn fool.

He remembers though, that it was always like this with Jinyoung. Every time he stretched, bent his neck, looked at him, looked at something else, _moved_ , Jaebum would want to reach out. It was like the moon pulling the tides closer, wanting to touch and be touched. 

But Jaebum had changed since then; the Jinyoung from back then who was generous with his affections but not his love would've broken the Jaebum from now. Looking and longing used to be enough for the younger, more desperate Jaebum, but not anymore. 

Then-Jinyoung had gotten Jaebum into bed, and left some paracetamol on the side table with a glass of water before leaving and never mentioning it again. But the Jinyoung beside him, who's leg he's resting his face against, who's started gently running his fingers through his hair, doesn't seem to be the same man who he'd known three years ago.

"I asked you not to drink, remember?" Jinyoung says, voice hushed. It feels intimate in the dark room, Jinyoung having turned off the lights before he came to bed. The clouds must be covering the moon tonight, because the room is drenched in darkness. Jinyoung's voice is rich and rough, even with the ribbon of disappointment lacing through his words. 

"I'm sorry,"Jaebum whispers, repentant and vulnerable. He wishes that he'd been braver for Jinyoung. He wants to be better for him in the future.

Right now, with Jinyoung tender and indulgent beside him, it's difficult to even imagine that he'd been anxious at the prospect of spending time together. 

“I wanted to talk to you,” Jinyoung whispers back. He leans back until he’s lying beside Jaebum, facing him. Jaebum can feel the press of his bent knee, heavy against his leg, and he shifts closer too, wanting more of him pressed against his body. The air feels heated between them, and the alcohol is working through his body, making him feel syrupy and formless against the bed. His leg is pinned down, that single point of contact stopping him from floating away entirely even as it makes him feel shivery and hot. He wants to see Jinyoung's face, wants to see if the way he's feeling is mirrored there.

But it's been a long day and he can feel his eyes drifting shut, despite his best efforts to wrench them open and stay in this moment longer. 

“I’m listening,” Jaebum tries, and he can hear the physical evidence of his exhaustion in the way his words are lisping together, almost unstructured. 

“It’s important,” Jinyoung says. Jaebum thinks that the way every word is a puff of breath against his cheek, the way Jinyoung's words can be felt as much as heard will be imprinted in his memories for the rest of life. 

The clouds must’ve parted because when his eyes slit open he can see that Jinyoung’s smiling, but the words have weight to them, “I want you to remember it.”

Jaebum's eyes close again, gravity finally winning its fight against consciousness. The world fades away from him and all that's left is the warm knowledge of Jinyoung beside him. The last thing he thinks he hears before he falls completely is Jinyoung's voice, low and yearning in his ear.

“I missed you,” he whispers, and Jaebum can only wonder if he's already dreaming.

~~

Jaebum wakes to banging on the door. Disoriented and bleary, he fights through the fog in his mind to a dazed alertness. Moonlight streams softly through the thin cotton of the curtains.

He can feel the tension in Jinyoung's body, and knows he's awake too. He prepares, mentally and physically, to stand up to answer the door, but Jinyoung's hand clamping down on his arm stops him.

He looks over and opens his mouth to ask what's going on but gets shushed before he can even vocalize the question. He tries again and Jinyoung's hand moves faster than his eyes can track, coming up and covering his mouth.

They stay like that for a moment, Jinyoung tight up against him, a caricature of espionage as they try to make out what’s happening on the other side of the door. 

"Hyuuuung," it's Youngjae, and Jaebum’s not surprised. Loud and happy? Who else would it be. "Let me in." 

He's clearly passed the point of being drunk and is well on his way to wasted, Jaebum can hear it in his voice. Jinyoung must hear it too because when Jaebum moves to get up, he lets him.

He wobbles to the door or unsteady legs, and hears Jinyoung's muffled snort behind him. He doesn't care, all his focus is on getting to his friend.

"Youngjae, stand up," This new voice is Jackson’s, muffled but distinctive and deep. Jaebum hesitates at the door, knowing that Jackson would take care of the younger man.

"But I need to check on Jaebum-hyung," Youngjae mumbles and Jaebum's heart melts, and takes his legs with it. He slides down against the door, his heart a puddle for his sweet dongsaeng. He feels unworthy, suddenly, of the love he's receiving. 

Jinyoung makes his way over and takes a seat beside him, and together they listen to the shuffling on the other side of the door. 

"Jaebum's a grown-ass man. He can take care of himself," Jackson's complaining, "You're the one who needs help right now." 

"But he's so bad at talking," Youngjae sounds genuinely saddened, and Jaebum wants to roll his eyes at the display. Sure, he may not be the best at talking about his feelings, but he's also not interested in taking advice from the person who's crying in the hallway right now.

"If I don't help him, he might ruin everything," Youngjae's still talking, and Jaebum's wondering when his opinion of Jaebum took such a downturn. 

"I remember when Youngjae just started working here and worshipped the ground I walked on. Where's that Youngjae? I liked him better." He mumbles to Jinyoung, who's outright laughing at him now.

"I’m certain that never happened," Jinyoung says, lying through his teeth with a smile wide on his lips.

"Yeah well --" _You weren't really around that much, after_. The words are right on the tip of his tongue, and Jaebum just barely manages to cut himself off. But he knows by the way he tenses up that Jinyoung understood what he was going to say, and he's suddenly too scared to see Jinyoung's face. He feels like if he sees his face, their precarious new friendship will overturn, like a raft smashed in the turbulent sea of their history.

The thing is, they never fought. Maybe if they’d fought, they’d be able to reconcile because they’d have a tangible obstacle to overcome. But there’s no such thing-- they’d simply drifted apart, that’s all. It’s happened to friends for hundreds of years, and will continue to happen for hundreds of years after them. 

But it hurts because Jaebum was certain, he knows, deep down to his very DNA, that they weren't like that. He feels gaslit by his own feelings that tell him that he’d built their friendship up in his own head. And he’s tired of fighting against it all, fighting against himself, against Jinyoung. Because he’d tried to talk to Jinyoung again, over and over, baring himself, and he’d been turned down each time with no explanation. 

He feels so out of sorts, sitting there with Jinyoung so close beside him, no space to hide all the hurt that he'd held so tightly to his chest before. His eyes start to well up, and he swipes at them angrily, so mortified to be exposed like this.

The hurt is there, but it’s secondary. He wants things to be good between them again. He wants to be able to talk to his friend the way he used to, and hold his hand and share a bed when they’re drinking and have Jinyoung stroke his hair when he’s tired after a long day at work.

He wants a lot, but he’s older now and he knows what it feels like to long for someone, and he can’t do that again. He won’t. Maybe it’s asking for too much, and it complicates their already complicated relationship, but at the heart of it all, he wants Jinyoung beside him.

"I think it's going to be ok," Jinyoung says softly, startling Jaebum from his thoughts, and he wants to scoff, the tears turning to anger flaring up like a sunspot, dark and consuming. He was wrong, the hurt is front and center, potent. _Since when are you an optimist, Jinyoung?_ he wants to ask. He wants it to be ugly and he wants it to hurt.

“Why are you even here?” He says, voice rough already, and it gives his hurt away but he doesn’t care. Let him see. After three years, finally, Jinyoung will know how he feels.

The question is vague really, could be referring to anything, but Jinyoung always did understand him.

“I wanted to apologize,” he says, and it’s clear in his eyes, his posture, that he’s taking this seriously. “When I was reassigned, I knew things would change, but I thought that we would be the same.” He’s sitting with his legs crossed, hands intertwined in his lap. To Jaebum, he looks like a schoolboy, waiting to be chastised, and it soothes his anger a little.

Jinyoung’s looking at his face carefully, and he seems hesitant to say the words that are clearly on the tip of his tongue, “You were my best friend--”

“Then why,” Jaebum bursts out, “Why did you ignore me? Why didn't you talk to me anymore? I was right there, two floors down. Nothing changed except you.”

“You changed too,” and the attack is so abrupt Jaebum is literally struck dumb, jaw locking on the words that were halfway out of his mouth, “What--?”

“You changed too, Jaebum,” Jinyoung repeats, and he’s sitting up straighter too, back stick straight, probably propped up on the spine he’s just found, Jaebum thinks viciously, and he’s shocked speechless for the second time in as many seconds by how spiteful his thoughts sound. The anger drains out of him in an instant and is quickly replaced with a wave of thick, sludgy regret.

Jinyoung’s still speaking, voice low and fast, “When we first met, we were friends, but after they promoted us, you weren’t satisfied. You wanted more and more. I could see it, Jaebum, what you wanted from me.” He’s breathing hard, like he was so anxious to get the words out he didn’t even spare the time to inhale.

But Jaebum can hardly breathe; he’s reeling. He hadn’t tried to be subtle, but the longing was just that at first-- unformed longing. It was so all-encompassing it was formless. He’d never pointed his affection at Jinyoung in a way that could be labelled, not really, not in a way that couldn’t be passed off as friends just being friendly. 

“You knew--?” He rasps out, and Jinyoung must see some part of what he’s feeling on his face because he his tone softens, “I think everyone knew, Jaebum-ah.”

When he sees that Jaebum isn’t going to say anything -- can’t say anything -- he continues, “I didn’t mind, Jaebum.”

He can’t even look at Jinyoung. “But you didn’t feel the same way.” Jaebum can hear himself talking, and he’s frightened by how emotionless he sounds. 

It wasn’t a question, but Jinyoung answers as if it was, “I wasn’t sure how I felt, then.” 

Jaebum’s eyes snap to Jinyoung’s face.

“But I know now. I just needed more time.” he says, as he shifts closer, carefully taking Jaebum’s hand in his own. He’s watching his face the whole time, like he’s scared Jaebum might bolt, “I’m so sorry I took so long. I’m sorry I hurt you.” And Jaebum doesn’t know what that means exactly, but it sounds like an olive branch. He doesn’t know what to say, so he just squeezes his hand tightly.

When Jaebum doesn't turn to him, Jinyoung shifts even closer, resting his head tentatively against Jaebum's broad shoulder. 

"Will it really be ok?" Jaebum asks.

Jinyoung's hand is still in his, and he squeezes it hard,"I'm not going to leave again."

Jaebum huffs out a laugh at how earnest Jinyoung sounds, "You don't need to say it like that," he chuckles, "Goodness."

Jinyoung crane his neck then, enough for Jaebum to meet his eyes when he looks down

"But I mean it. I hated it when we couldn't even have a single conversation together." At Jaebum's sharp glance he has the grace to look rueful, "I know I'm the one who made it like that, but I still hated it."

The sun's starting to come up, the morning light fresh and clear cutting through the darkness of the room. The complicated knot that’s been sitting heavy in his chest feels looser, and Jaebum feels like he can breathe a little easier.

Jackson and Youngjae are still talking in the hallway and it sounds like Jackson’s reached the end of his rope.

“Alright here we go,” He says, finally, after a few extended moments of shuffling and whispering. There’s the sound of a quick scuffle, a grunt and then a giggled _hyuuung_ from Youngjae and finally one set of footsteps fading away. The look Jinyoung levels at Jaebum speaks volumes, and he can only shrug. He’ll have to remember to ask Youngjae about that later.

“Come on, let’s go back to bed,” Jinyoung says, standing up. He reaches down to haul Jaebum up, and Jaebum’s surprised by the strength of the smaller man. 

They trudge to the bed and settle into their respective sides, looking up at the ceiling together. Jaebum’s exhausted. He quickly and wordlessly falls into a dreamless slumber.

~~

Jaebum wakes up to a face full of sunshine. Jinyoung's sitting up beside him, quietly reading a book -- his book, he can’t help but notice. Just the day before he remembers feeling annoyed by the other man’s ability to move on, but if Jaebum had his way, he thinks they’d get bogged down until they stalled out, never making any progress. Even the small act of reading the book feels like progress.

It’s quiet for a moment, before Jinyoung speaks up, tone thoughtful.

“Hyung, huh?.” He says, more a question than a statement, and if he thinks Jaebum’s going to be able to follow anything he’s saying two seconds after waking up, he’s sorely mistaken.

At his blank look, Jinyoung rolls his eyes with a huff. “You and Youngjae. I didn’t realise you and Youngjae were so close.”

“He’s a good kid,” Jaebum says, warmth seeping into him at just the thought of his friend. How incompetent he seems to consider him to be aside, it amazes Jaebum that there is someone in the world who cares about him so sincerely. Thinking about his kind friend makes his insides glow, like he’s swallowed pure sunshine. 

“A kid?” Jinyoung laughs, “Isn’t he just a year younger than you?”

“Two years, actually,” Jaebum says as snottily as he can.

“You’re so weird,” That’s what Jinyoung says, but it really doesn’t sound like he minds at all. 

The silence between them is comfortable, and even Jaebum’s surprised how calm he feels after last night. It should be awkward, for any number of reasons, ranging from when he cried, to when he admitted to tripping -- sorry, slipped -- twice, to when he'd found out that Jinyoung had know about his feelings for at least three years, maybe even longer. At the very least, he'd been validated for drinking as much as he did, Jaebum thinks dryly.

But for the first time in a long time, he doesn't feel alone. He'd forgotten how nice it was to have someone by your side, and Jinyoung had promised to stay there for a long time.

Lying in bed, he can hear the birds singing outside the window. Eventually Jinyoung speaks up again.

“I actually passed Youngjae when I was hiking up. He made sure to let me know that you were on your way up,” He smiles at the memory, “He must care about you a lot,” The look on his face is complicated, too much written there for Jaebum to decipher.

“You didn’t wait for me?” Jaebum jokes instead of dwelling on it. Actually, now that he thinks about it, it might’ve been nice to walk up together. Romantic even. He shakes his head to dislodge the thought.

“Well, he did say you were gonna take a while," Jinyoung hedges, "And I do have a reputation to keep as an experienced hiker."

“Well, we wouldn’t have wanted anything to taint our precious Jinyoungie’s reputation.” He snarks back, and Jinyoung knocks his shoulder with his own playfully.

“I’m glad you understand,” He says, and then after a moment's thought, he continues, “Poor thing’s only going to get an hour or two of sleep before the bus leaves.”

“If Jackson lets him sleep at all,” Jaebum says deviously, and Jinyoung laughs. “Actually," he amends, "they figured it’d be like this so they said they scheduled the bus for later in the afternoon. Around 2, I think.”

“And they didn’t think that was the type of thing they should inform the Assistant Manager?” Jinyoung grumbles.

“When you’re a manager, they’ll start telling you things too,” Jaebum says cheekily.

“Ugh, what happened to you?” Jinyoung complains, “Youngjae’s right, you are the worst.” 

“I don’t remember him calling me the worst,” Jaebum laughs.

“It was implied,” Jinyoung assures him, laughing too.

He should be hungover, but he just feels lazy and content, in this big bed, Jinyoung beside him. He wants to spend as much time together as he can before they have to go back. He wonders if things will continue as they are now once they return to the office, or evaporate away as easily as morning dew under the sun. 

He suddenly thinks that Cinderella seems more relatable than she ever had before. Princess Jaebum, he thinks, the thought punctured by the birds chirping outside, and can’t help his snort of amusement.

“What’s so funny?” Jinyoung asks, and he doesn’t sound any more sleepy than Jaebum. He wonders idly if they were thinking the same thing.

“Princess Jaebum,” He chuckles. Jinyoung cocks his head in confusion, the question unspoken.

“Cinderella must've been so anxious that whole night, don’t you think?” Jaebum asks instead of explaining. Jinyoung looks thoughtfully up at the ceiling, and takes his time answering.

“I like to think that she had so much fun that night, she didn’t have any time to think about midnight.” He says finally, turning to look at Jaebum.

“Optimistic,” He says, voicing the thought that had lingered, so much sweeter now than the night before.

“Haven’t you heard, Jaebum-ah, I’m an optimist now,” Jinyoung says playfully.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Jaebum asks, still joking, but Jinyoung’s face turns serious, and he answers slowly.

“I just woke up one morning and thought, what a shame to have wasted so much time.” He's looking directly at Jaebum, and each word sounds like he’s trying to press it into Jaebum, like he needs him to understand what he’s saying.

“Do you remember when we were in bed last night?” he asks. His face is so terribly vulnerable, and Jaebum’s scared that he’ll hurt him, but he doesn’t want to lie either, so he shakes his head. But Jinyoung’s face relaxes, and Jaebum aches to know what he said, wants to reassure him that whatever it was, he’d understand. Or maybe he wouldn't, but he'd try to.

“Tell me,” he chokes out, but Jinyoung just puts his book down on the bed-side table and settles back into the bed, shifting so he’s facing him square on.

“I’ll tell you another time,” he assures him, closing his eyes, “Let’s just sleep now.”

And Jaebum’s decided to trust him, so he rolls over until they’re facing each other, and falls into a peaceful sleep.

~

The ride back is quiet. Jaebum sits at the back and Jinyoung neatly steps in to follow behind him. He sits beside him, and silently presses against him to make space on his other side. 

They'd woken up not 30 minutes earlier, panicky and laughing that they might miss their bus. 

They'd sprinted down the stairs, after a brief stop at Jinyoung's actual room to pick up his things, before racing down to the front foyer. They'd slowed down just before they turned the corner, mindful of their positions as senior employees. They'd collected themselves, buttoned errant buttons, adjusted collars that were askew, and patted down each other's hard before striding nonchalantly into the big entryway, side by side.

Now, on the bus, they’re lined up from shoulder to knee. It’s already balmy in the car, the air conditioning not nearly strong enough for this many people in the bus, but Jaebum doesn’t move to make space between them. He sits still, content to stick slick and sweaty to each other in the heat.

Eventually Jaebum starts to doze off, the long night and alcohol wreaking havoc on his poor overworked body. His head lolls forward uncomfortably before he shifts down in his seat to rest his head against Jinyoung’s strong shoulder, uninterested and uncaring of who might see. He feels Jinyoung stiffen under his head before he relaxes into the weight of his head, leaning his own head down, until Jaebum can feel his cheek pressed against the top of his head. It's nice, he thinks, to have that easy intimacy back.

He feels Jinyoung’s arm shift under him, and then a tentative touch against his knee. Jinyoung squeezes his knee hard and Jaebum just melts into the crook of his neck. Neither man speaks as they whiz past lakes and farms alike, heedless of everything but each other.

Jaebum wonders if Jinyoung can feel how fast his heart is beating, if he even needs to, to know what his touch is doing to him. 

Jinyoung digs his fingers in harder, as if in response to his thoughts. He presses down tight, fingers grinding into the thick muscle, and Jaebum feels his mind go syrupy. 

He can feel Jinyoung breathing fast under his head, and he slouches deeper into his seat, just wanting pressure somewhere, something to ground himself before he floats away entirely. A touch on his knee isn't enough to hold him down this time. 

The bus speeds bumpily down the road and each jolt sends sparks up his spine.

He groans quietly, deep down inside, and when the hand abruptly stops moving he has to bite his lip to stop himself from whining. 

“Go to sleep,” Jinyoung whispers into his hair, and Jaebum wants to flail when he hears how amused he sounds. But the hand has already relaxed its grip until it’s just a comforting presence on his knee, chaste except for how Jaebum knows what it feels like when he’s wanting. 

Jaebum looks out the window and tries to keep track of time in the passing of the cars, but it's an impossible task, distracted and worked up as he is. Eventually, Jinyoung’s breathing evens out beside him, his keystone in the storm of sensation and Jaebum forces himself to follow suit, each breath measured and held until his chest doesn’t feel like it’s going to burst, until the static in him dissipates.

He watches out the window as the sun sets behind the hedgerows, and the streetlights flicker on. He can feel Jinyoung solid and stable beside him. The bus rocks and winds up the road, lulling him into a restless slumber.

~~~

Jaebum wakes up hard and panting. It’s dark on the bus, and he’s disoriented for the second time in as many nights. The hand that was resting so innocently against his knee before has climbed dangerously up his thigh and has him aching again. He’s leaning hard against Jinyoung, alternating between grinding mindlessly down against the chair, and up into that strong hand, trying to jostle him to where he needs the pressure. 

He's got off on the thought of Jinyoung before, many times in fact. His favorite fantasy is one where they're stuck working late, and Jinyoung gets so fed up with the company and the delays and their lack of personal lives as a result. Of course he has to take out his frustration, and of course Jaebum's there to offer his mouth, his tongue, his ass -- whatever Jinyoung wants. In his fantasies, Jinyoung always took what he wanted, immediately and brutally. But the reality is so different; Jinyoung's a tease, and when he thinks about it, Jaebum's can't really be surprised. 

He cranes his head to see Jinyoung’s face, and gasps when he finds him watching. His gaze is molten, hot on Jaebum’s face, his body. He can surely see how hard Jaebum is through the fabric of his pants, and Jaebum loves it. He feels vulgar, craves for Jinyoung to see him spilling open and sloppy in front of him. 

The explicitness of the thought gives him pause, and Jinyoung must see the hesitation on his face, feel it in the new tension in his body, because he switches hands, his free hand coming up to squeeze the back of Jaebum's neck. 

He holds him still and leans in close until he can lick at that terribly sensitive spot just below Jaebum's ear.

“It's ok,” he husks, every brush of his lips sending Jaevum's heartbeat skyrocketing. He slides his hand up, the curve of his hand perfect as it slides home to drag over his cock, finally. 

Jaebum turns into his chest, and rests his head deeper in the crook of Jinyoung’s neck, feels a rush of pride when Jinyoung shivers as he breathes against him, humid and heavy. 

It doesn't seem real, doing this in the back of their company bus, surrounded by their coworkers. Jaebum actually thinks he may have had a wet dream about this very situation -- he remembers waking up very satisfied and covered in his own come. 

"I've thought about this before," he pants, finding it difficult to find the right words.

"Thought about what?" Jinyoung asks easily, "my hand on your cock? Or getting off beside all our coworkers, where anyone could just look over and see how easy their respected Team Leader Im really is?" He almost manages to sound unaffected but Jaebum can hear the strain in his voice, and the way his breath wavers. He drags his lips open and slick down his neck just to feel Jinyoung shiver underneath him. 

"Both," he mumbles. He can't see Jinyoung's face, so he tries to imagine the way he must be smiling now -- either triumphant or viscous, he can't decide.

But he doesn't need to waste time imagining anymore, not when he has the real thing right here with him, touching him right now.

When he looks down, Jinyoung's smile is wide and feral. 

"Gonna make you feel so good Jaebum-ah," he promises, "Want you to think about this the next time you're touching yourself."

Jaebum just has the presence of mind to look up, but nobody’s looking at them, and when Jinyoung bends to nuzzle at his neck again, he can’t find it in himself to care anymore.

Jaebum reaches down to push Jinyoung's hand down harder on his cock, and Jinyoung’s other hand slides down his back too, underneath him to palm at his ass. He feels trapped between his hands, like a fly caught helplessly in Jinyoung’s web. 

It feels like every part of his body is connected, all the sensations buzzing to meet at the base of his spine.

His hand drops low on Jinyoung’s waist, scrapes hard against the muscle there just to hear Jinyoung grunt, feels the puff of air against his neck when he does. He wants to stay here forever, impaled on Jinyoung’s fingers digging into his hole through his pants, his lips on his neck wet and sucking. His brain feels like it’s shorting out, and he just goes loose and lets Jinyoung take what he wants.

He must feel the slack in his body, because Jinyoung bends Jaebum back, flat against the cushions, before dragging him forward with grunt until he’s splayed out along the row of seats. He hovers over him, so close that Jaebum can feel every move he makes in the way the air shifts.

His arms are rigid, veins prominent, palms digging into the seat on either side of Jaebum’s head, and he realises how lucky he is to see him like this. No fantasy had been this detailed, no dream had ever been able to conjure up the way Jinyoung smelled, and he could never have imagined the little smile that would be on his face the first time they kissed.

Their noses brush against each other, mouths not even touching yet. It's almost virginal. It's so sweet compared to what they had been doing seconds ago, Jaebum feels untethered from reality, feels filthy for the way he wants to be ruined even as Jinyoung is being a gentleman.

"Jaebum…" Jinyoung whispers into the tiny pocket of air between their mouths, and Jaebum's lips ache with how much he wants a kiss.

But then Jinyoung's leaning his weight onto one hand, and reaching up with the other to open Jaebum’s mouth with his thumb pressed down against his bottom lip, and Naebum doesn't have to wait anymore because he's leaning in to finally, finally lick dirty and wet into his mouth.

Jaebum’s wanted to be kissed like this since he saw Jinyoung on the peak of the mountain. His mouth opens wide for him, and he moans as he sucks on the fat of his bottom lip. A line of spit connects their mouths when Jinyoung pulls back and he groans as Jaebum leans up to lick it up. 

He wants Jinyoung to know how slutty he can be for him, how desperate he makes him. Tries to show him without words that he'd love whatever Jinyoung did to him. He presses open-mouthed kisses anxiously into his chin, his neck, wherever he can reach. 

He skates his hand up Jinyoung’s sides, fingers brushing lightly over the baby hairs that cover the smooth velvety skin under his shirt. 

But Jinyoung gets impatient and pulls back to shove Jaebum’s shirt up to his armpits. He can see the way his abdomen trembles with every breath, see the wet spot seeping through the front of his pants. 

“Touch yourself,” He whispers, and Jaebum’s hand stutters to a stop.

He shakes his head, dizzy on sensation and honestly shocked.

“What--?” He stutters out, confused but turned on.

“Touch yourself,” Jinyoung says with a mischievous grin, “C’mon, Princess.” and he slaps him sharply on the ass to get him moving.

Jaebum feels his body go slack, breath stopping on an exhale, and it takes effort to start breathing again. Jinyoung looks up sharply, cocks his head to the side consideringly, and then his eyes light up.

“You like that, baby?” He asks, that ruthless glint in his eye goading Jaebum on. "You wanna be my Princess?" And Jaebum's hand actually halts in its path downwards because he’s laughing so hard in Jinyoung's face. 

"Oh my god," he says covering his face with his hand instead, "Not that…" He can hardly get the words out, just hopes that Jinyoung will be able to put the pieces together himself.

He peeks at Jinyoung through his fingers, and sees that his face has become very, very serious.

"You have to say it if you want it," He says, looking down at Jaebum from what feels like too far away, "I can't read your mind." But his eyes are glittering, and Jaebum thinks that he knows exactly what Jaebum wants, and the sadistic bastard wants to hear him beg for it. Which he'd been happy to do before, but now that the actual opportunity is here, he can't help feeling a little shy.

He covers his mouth and tries to get the words out, "shash ne," he mumbles. Jinyoung doesn't even have the decency to just let it go; he collapses in laughter right onto Jaebum chest who can only sigh. He can feel every hitch of Jinyoung's body as he chuckles, before he pulls back and yanks at Jaebum's hand to free up his mouth to kiss him again softly.

"I think about you too, y'know," He says conversationally between kisses. "When I get myself off, I mean." He sounds confident, but Jaebum can see the way the tops of his cheeks turn pink in embarrassment. 

He feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. He can just imagine the obituary now: _Im Jaebum, born 1994 passed away August 2020 from being too turned on. He was a devoted son and treasure of the community. May he rest in peace._

He just has to grab Jinyoung and hold him down for a deep kiss. He wants to be better than any fantasy ever could've been.

"I like it when you tell me what you want," Jinyoung continues when Jaebum pulls back from the kiss. But getting what he really wants, the way he wants it can't possibly happen on the bus, even Jaebum knows that.

"We can't on the bus," he explains, and Jinyoung's lights up in interest, clearly aware of how indecent Jaebum's request must be for it to cross the very generous line they’ve drawn in the sand. Jaebum can practically see him begin daydreaming about it in front of his eyes, which would usually be great, but Jaebum's right here and he's wanted Jinyoung since the day they met all those years ago. 

He wants his attention on him only, so he reaches down shyly, barely able to look at Jinyoung now. He focuses instead on the sweat dripping down his throat, the tendons stretched taut at his neck. Thinks about the way Jinyoung would moan if he bit into that vulnerable flesh.

Emboldened, he meets his eyes and runs his fingers over his own ribs, his nipples, getting off on the lust in Jinyoung’s eyes and the sparks that light up his body everywhere his fingers touch. Jinyoung’s hands hook into his pants, drag it down until his dick is free to slap against his abdomen, precum splattering messily. 

He’s never felt like this before, certainly not under his own hand. But then, he’s never had someone’s attention focused so intently on him while he twists half-naked, covered in his own sweat and precum. 

Jinyoung’s leaning down to lick along the ridges of his abdomen before he drags his face down to Jaebum's cock. His tongue flicks out in hard, little licks against the base, and Jaebum flings an arm up and bites deep into the flesh there to stop himself from crying out. He’s panting hard, humping up into Jinyoung’s face, trying to drive his cock deeper into his mouth. 

Abruptly, he thinks of how Jinyoung’s hand had felt when it was digging into his ass, and whimpers at the very thought.

“Please, Jinyoungie,” He mewls, “please finger me,” and Jinyoung doesn’t hesitate to reach up to scoop up the precome that’s dripping down his dick, as he licks wetly along the crease of his thigh.

“Yeah baby. Yeah, anything you want,” he murmurs into his thigh, and he sounds as dazed as Jaebum feels. He can feel Jinyoung’s tongue tickling the hair high on his thigh, and he swears in that moment, he can feel everything, every individual strand. 

Jinyoung reaches between his cheeks, fingers dripping wet and Jaebum hums in satisfaction. He feels the press of his finger at his hole and strains to spread his legs even wider, struggling against the tautness of his pants that they’d only spared the time to pull down to mid-thigh. He feels slutty and exposed, like he’s showing himself off for Jinyoung. He’d turn himself inside out for his Jinyoungie.

Each pass of Jinyoung’s finger sends tingles through his body, a constellation of feeling connecting everywhere he’s touching himself and being touched. Jinyoung presses the pad of his finger against his sphincter and grinds it hard, and the muscle loosen and give way and his finger slips in like Jaebum’s hole is sucking it in.

Jaebum loves it, wants more, can’t stop his hand from working his dick as Jinyoung presses in deeper, with a second finger, just the way he wanted. The air feels thick and heavy; he wonders if the bus smells like sex, if anyone’s watching them right now. The thought of it combined with the pressure is too much, and he comes, Jinyoung still tonguing at his cock, his fingers up his ass.

Cum splatters across his stomach, hot and thick, and he lies there, panting and sweating as Jinyoung leans down to lick it up slowly as it runs down the grooves in his abs. 

He catches his breath, can feel shuffling above him, feels Jinyoung’s face pressed into his thigh, pulling against the hair there. He feels over-sensitive and satisfied, and adjusts his shirt as he sits up. He reaches down to, still shaky, curious and intent on getting Jinyoung off, but he shudders when his hand brushes over the sticky crotch of his pants, and Jaebum’s gaze flicks up to his blushing face.

“No need,” he mumbles, bashful now, as he sits in his own mess, surrounded by the evidence of their debauchery. 

But Jaebum loves it, kisses him firmly, trying to stamp in how much he loves it with his mouth, his tongue licking against Jinyoung’s.

“Don’t get shy now, Jinyoungie,” he whispers against his lips, relishes the way Jinyoung’s lips curve into a smile against his own.

“Jinyoungie?” He says teasingly, head tilted to the side in mock-question, and now it's Jaebum’s turn to feel shy as he nods. Jinyoung laughs and presses kisses against his shoulder, his cheek, wherever he can reach, before he tugs Jaebum’s pants back up. 

"We had a whole bed all to ourselves for a whole night, but you wanted it in the back of a bus, huh?" Jinyoung has the gall to say, like he wasn't the one who started touching first.

The bus hits a bump then, and Jaebum winces in sympathy as they look down wordlessly at the mess in Jinyoung’s pants. He huffs in discomfort and tries to shift away from the cooling fluids on his body.

“I might have some napkins in my bag,” Jaebum offers, trying not to laugh at the look of distaste on Jinyoung’s face.

They clean up together, and settle back for the rest of the ride home. Jinyoung leans into his chest, and Jaebum wraps an arm around his shoulders. It’s still too hot, and they’re both a mess, but neither one cares. 

~~

“So.” Jaebum hesitates, but the ball’s rolling and the words just fall out, “What are we?”

They’re having dinner together at Jaebum’s place again. It’s been a blissful week of lunches at the office and dinners at one of their houses, and Jaebum doesn’t think he’s ever been happier.

But on the car ride back to his place Jaebum had realised that he’d been so caught up in the feeling of being with Jinyoung that they’d never actually talked about their relationship. He knows what he wants, and he thinks he knows what Jinyoung wants, but there’s a small part of him, some thread of uncertainty that’s lingered since they got out of the car and Jinyoung had pushed him up against the door of the car and kissed him like it was their first time seeing each other all day (it definitely wasn’t; it wasn’t even the first time they’d kissed in the last hour).

So he’s asking. They’re right in the middle of dinner, and Jinyoung has just taken a bite, but he can’t wait anymore.

Jinyoung chews placidly, swallows, and has a long drink of water before he’s ready to speak, “We’re dating.” And then he takes another bite. Which is fine, Jaebum’s glad he’s enjoying this dinner, but also he needs more information.

“So, we’re boyfriends?” he tries again, and he things it’s evident by his tone that he’s happy for that to be the case.

“Yes,” Jinyoung says, “unless you’ve just been flirting with me all this time for fun. Is that it, Jaebum? Were you just flirting with me, and now you’re going to toss me aside like popped bubble wrap?” Jaebum’s still not used to this new flirty Jinyoung, but god, he loves it. He loves the way his cheeks get so round when he smiles. Jaebum just loves him so much. He can feel himself smiling like a sap; Jackson was right all those years ago, he really does need to get a grip.

“Yes Jinyoung, I have sex with all my coworkers in the backs of busses, and you were just the last one to find out.” He tries a spoon of the soup they’d made together and makes a face.

“The last one?” Jinyoung asks, head tilted to the side in thought. Jaebum doesn’t like the look in his eye. “Does that mean you’ve had sex with everyone else already? Youngjae? Jackson?” His face twists in glee, “Assistant Director Song?” 

He’s cackling now. This is probably the most animated Jaebum’s ever seen him, even more than when they were on the bus together, he thinks sourly.

“You put too much pepper in the soup again,” he sniffs, instead of acknowledging such a ridiculous question.

“If I was too distracted by the thought of you and Assistant Director Song doing it to pay attention to how much pepper I was putting in, I think I can be forgiven,” Jinyoung says, drily, calming. But he’s frowning now, and looking at Jaebum thoughtfully.

They eat in silence for a moment. Jaebum reaches his foot out to prod at Jinyoung’s foot, just happy to be touching him. Jinyoung looks up and catches his eye and smiles. The birds are singing outside, and his kitchen is sunny and warm. Sitting here feels a lot like happiness, Jaebum thinks. He remembers that Jinyoung had said that everything was going to be ok, and he’s not at all surprised that he was right.

“I never told you did I?” Jinyoung asks eventually, looking into his soup but ready to talk apparently. Jaebum just rolls his eyes. Jinyoung always does this; eventually he’s going to figure out that Jaebum has no idea what he’s talking about.

“How much I like you, I mean.” he continues, when Jaebum doesn’t say anything, only looking up when Jaebum drops his spoon with a splash. He smiles. “I like you so much Jaebum-ah. I missed you so much. That’s what I wanted to say.”

Jaebum can’t stop the way he’s smiling right now, and he just knows that it’s big and dopey but he doesn’t care. I love you too, he tries to say, but the words are caught in his throat. But he thinks Jinyoung knows how he feels, can see it on his face. After all, Jinyoung always did know him best.


End file.
